no!” He released her wrists. “But it’s only fair I tell you that we might not see each other again after tonight. So if that bothers you …”
“It doesn’t,” she assured him. “Like I said before, I’m only here for a few days, and then I’ll be gone.” She paused meaningfully. “So, unless you’re married or something …”
He laughed softly and raised his ringless hands for her inspection. “No wife. No fiancée. No girlfriend.”
“Then no worries, because I’m not looking for any promises. Your job is dangerous, and you can never be sure where you’re going to be from one day to the next. Trust me, I get it. Not exactly conducive to a relationship, right?”
“Right …”
She heard the cautious agreement in his voice, and wondered if she’d made another faux pas. Maybe he didn’t want her to know that he was with special ops. Some of those guys were funny about revealing their connection to the black world of covert operations. But she really did get it, because her own career made it difficult for her to establish any romantic ties.
“All I’m trying to say is that I’m okay with keeping this casual,” she clarified. “No strings. No commitments.
“ Leaning down, she put her mouth next to his ear and lowered her voice to a sultry whisper. “No problem.”
3
CHANCE COULDN’T THINK of one damn reason to argue with her, not when her heat scorched him through his jeans and her hands were at his belt, finishing the task he’d interrupted just moments earlier. He’d been honest with her. He’d told her that whatever they shared wouldn’t extend beyond tonight, and she’d been okay with it. More than okay, really. He should feel a little insulted that she was so okay with not seeing him again, but suddenly he couldn’t think about much beyond the feel of her fingers unzipping his jeans and tentatively stroking him beneath the fabric of his boxers.
“You’re so hard,” she breathed.
Oh, yeah.
“You’re sure—”
“Shh.” She lay her fingers over his mouth. “You talk too much.”
As if to emphasize her point, she leaned down and covered his lips with her own, sliding her tongue against his. Chance wanted to groan with pleasure. He buried his fingers in her hair and angled her face for better access, luxuriating in the damp silk of her mouth. She made a small noise in her throat and shifted so that she could reach between their bodies and cover his straining erection with her hand. The heat of her palm through the thin cotton had him pushing upward, instinctively seeking more of the erotic contact.
“Mmm,” she murmured approvingly. “You like that?”
Chance managed to grunt a reply, and then ceased to think altogether when she slipped a hand inside the waistband of his boxers and curled her fingers around him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so aroused so quickly. Of course, he hadn’t been with anyone in more than six months, and that kind of deprivation had a way of ratcheting up your libido. But Chance suspected that even if he hadn’t gone through a recent dry spell, he’d have a tough time resisting Jenna Larson. Everything about her turned him on. When she began to rhythmically slide her hand along his length, he groaned loudly and reached down to wrap a restraining hand around her wrist.
“Darlin’,” he panted, “you need to slow down, or this is going to be over a whole lot quicker than either of us wants.”
To both his regret and relief, Jenna released him.
“Sorry,” she whispered against his lips, “but I really want to touch you.”
She raised herself to a sitting position and ran her palms over the planes of his chest, her expression so sexy that Chance knew if she touched him again the way she just had, he’d be a goner. He didn’t protest when she began unfastening the buttons on his shirt and then tugged the fabric free from his waistband until he was exposed to her greedy gaze.
“Holy shit,” she muttered, and stroked a fingertip down the shallow groove that bisected his torso until she encountered the tip of his erection where it protruded above the waistband of his boxers. “It’s like you’ve been … airbrushed. Only, better.”
Chance gave a huff of laughter, grateful for the long hours he’d spent in physical training. He kept his body in prime condition, not just because the army required it, but because he and his brother had an ongoing rivalry over which of them was in better shape. With his rigorous special ops training, Chase usually kicked his ass in that department, but Chance suddenly didn’t care. If Jenna Larson liked what she saw, that was more than good enough for him.
She still straddled his hips, and when she swirled the tip of her finger over the head of his penis, Chance groaned and strained upward.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he growled softly. “My turn.”
Without giving her time to protest, he slid her to one side of the blanket and sat up, bending forward to yank his boots off and toss them aside. Her eyes never left him as he peeled his shirt away and spread it out on the blanket behind him, before he stood and swiftly shed his jeans. Finally, when all he wore were his boxers, he dropped back onto the blanket and turned to Jenna.
“That’s better,” he murmured, and scooted closer until mere inches separated them. Bracing himself on his forearm, he undid the first button of her blouse, and then the second. In the dim light, he could just make out the lacy edge of her bra. His fingers paused over the third button, and he slanted her a questioning look.
“Don’t stop now,” she murmured, and a hint of a smile curved her lips. Beneath his hand, Chance could feel the frantic, unsteady beat of her heart.
He slid a hand beneath the fall of her hair and dipped his head to cover her lips once more. She sighed into his mouth and her hand forged a molten trail along his rib cage and over his hip to boldly cup his butt and urge him closer.
Chance resisted the urge to grind against her, and instead focused on slowly unbuttoning her blouse as he explored her mouth with his tongue. When the fabric fell open beneath his fingers, he raised his head to admire the exposed swell of soft flesh beneath the lacy bra and the long, slender length of her waist.
“Gorgeous,” he muttered, and stroked the back of his fingers across the satiny skin, watching in fascination as her stomach muscles contracted beneath his touch. When he reached the waistband of her jeans, he didn’t wait for her permission, but flicked the button open and drew the zipper down in one easy movement. In the splayed vee of denim, he could just make out the top edge of her panties, and was helpless to prevent himself from laying his palm against her smooth abdomen. He wanted to plant his mouth there. Christ, he wanted to kiss her everywhere. He wanted to lick her skin, breathe in her scent and feel her softness against his palms. He dragged in a deep breath and forced himself to slow down.
Jenna made a small sound of frustration, and then her hands were there, pushing her jeans over her hips, even as she kicked her sandals free from her feet. Chance watched, mesmerized, as her long legs were exposed, and then she was gloriously bare except for the scrap of lace at her crotch, gleaming white in the darkness.
She rolled toward him, hitching one slim thigh over his leg, and running her hand along his bare skin. With a muffled groan,
